


Ruin

by KillerKueen



Series: Rumbelle Showdown 2017 [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dark One Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, F/M, Spinner Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 10:51:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10436052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerKueen/pseuds/KillerKueen
Summary: The Spinner is desperate enough for a deal, and luckily the Dark One could use another pair of hands around his castle.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the RumbelleShowdown 2017 under the name Chalk Dust
> 
> Round 2 prompts: Longing, Dragon hide, Hard came the rain
> 
> I might continue this to a very smutty conclusion, but I haven't decided yet ;D

 

The winding walk to the castle was difficult as it was tedious, made no easier by the endless rain. No doubt it was meant to deter people like him from bothering the Dark One, or maybe it was to test his desperation.

Whatever the reason, by the time he made it to the doors, his ankle couldn’t support his weight and he was soaked through. He must look positively wretched, with his hair plastered to his skull despite the hood of his cloak, and the cloak itself heavy with rain and clinging to his starved frame.

The Dark One would take one look at him and turn him away, laughing.

He wondered, not for the first time, if it wouldn’t be better to just…give up. The world wouldn’t blink at his absence, and the people in his village certainly wouldn’t. He had no one and nothing in this world. Well, almost nothing.

He clung to his staff. He would at least try.

He squared his shoulders as much as he was able but when he went to knock, the doors swung open of their own accord. Luckily, he managed to stifle his yell; he shouldn’t have been so surprised, this being the home of a mighty sorceror. Of course there’d be magic about.

The spinner forced himself to take a deep breath, and took his first step into the castle.

The doors closed silently behind him as soon as he had limped far enough across the threshold, and he tried to quell his shaking as he waited for the Dark One to appear.

After long minutes when nothing happened, he thought maybe he was meant to go to the Dark One himself. That seemed too much for his wee heart to take, but with a firm grip on his staff, he walked down the hall.

He came across another large set of doors, the frame rising in a wide arch, the doors already swinging open, inviting him in.

He entered into a grand dining hall with a large hearth, high ceiling, and a long dining table, on which there was a woman in a light blue dress placing a tray of tea things. Though her clothes were simple, they were very finely made, and he was sure the stitching would put his best work to shame. She turned, the beginnings of a smile blooming on her face, and what a face it was – beautiful, dark curls framing a strong jaw, and her eyes were a piercing blue, like ice, but they held only warmth.

Almost immediately, the smile turned into an expression of surprise, but the warmth remained.

“Oh,” she said, “I didn’t know we were entertaining today.”

He felt himself blush as her eyes swept over his form, taking in his sodden appearance and shabby, worn clothing. He shook his head, trying to say, “No, I’m not a guest,” but he was quite unable to utter a sound.

“You must be freezing,” she exclaimed. “Come, sit down.”

Her hand pulled at his elbow, and he was powerless but to let her peel him out of his cloak, then show him to the warm fire burning in the hearth and the large, plushy chair that she pushed him into, the velvet of the cushions nearly swallowing him whole.

The spinner stared at the fire, the heat wrapping around him like he was sure an embrace would feel.

“Milk?” the woman asked sweetly. “Sugar?”

He looked up to see the tea tray had been moved to small side table, and the woman waiting patiently.

“I don’t…” he tried, but the words wouldn’t make it past his throat. He didn’t know – he was stranger to such luxury. He couldn’t afford sugar and the local herder had refused his patronage for years.

Hardly bothered by his inept silence, the maiden poured him a cup, adding a spoonful of sugar and a splash of milk. Carefully she handed the cup over, and the spinner was relieved that he had managed to keep his hands from shaking enough to not spill the tea all over her dress.

“Please, madame,” he finally croaked. “I need to speak with the master of the castle.”

“Master?” said a high-pitched voice. “Oh, I quite like that.”

There, leaning against the hearth and oblivious to the flame licking at his back, was the Dark One.

The spinner startled badly at the sudden appearance, the cup falling from his hands and spilling across the floor. He winced as the cup cracked against the stone. All he could do was stare in horror at the puddle, at the delicate porcelain where it lay in pieces.

“Oh, now look what you’ve done,” the woman scolded.

“I’m sorry,” the spinner whimpered, devastated in equal parts that he had disappointed her after she had shown such kindness while simultaneously ruining any chance he had at a deal.

“Not you,” she said warmly, bending down at his feet with a rag to soak up the mess he had made. “It’s not your fault at all that the mighty Dark One is rude.”

“That’s my chair,” The Dark One snarled in response.

The spinner squeaked, ready to bolt from his seat at the first sign that was what the sorcerer wanted.

“Then conjure another,” she said, putting the broken pieces of the cup back on the tray.

“Why must you insist on coddling all of my clients?” he growled, but he waved his hand, and a larger chair poofed into existence, the cushions wider, the gilded accents more golden. He took a seat, slouching and crossing his legs petulantly.

His boots were heeled and laced all the way to his knees while his coat was stiff and coarse. A corner of the spinner’s brain thought it might be dragonhide, and he firmly decided he didn’t want to know how it had been acquired. His skin glittered in the firelight, his claws sharp and black, and he wondered if maybe the Dark One wasn’t a dragon himself. What really caught the spinner’s attention were his eyes: the pupils were large and yellow and looked like a pair of twin stars.

The spinner’s gaze settled on the floor where the wet spot was still visible, but before he could even plead, the Dark One did nothing more than roll his eyes.

“Hardly worth throwing you in the dungeon.” He sat back, staring at the spinner pointedly. “Out with it. Why have you come to sit in my chair and break my tea cups?”

“My sheep are dying, master,” he stuttered, his mouth dry. He wished he hadn’t spilled his tea.

The sorcerer’s lip twitched. “You came all this way in a storm for sheep?”

“They’re good beasts, master, and my livelihood. They’re all I have in this world.”

The Dark One steepled his hands, though his face remained impassive. “How many have you lost?”

“I had a modest flock of fourteen. All but five now are gone.”

The spinner tried not to flinch under the unblinking, starry gaze. “I’ve heard whispers of you, Spinner,” he said softly. “Rumor has it you stole away the baker’s newborn from her crib and gutted her at the crossroads in a bid for dark magic.”

A whimper bubbled up from his chest. “No, master, please.”

“Calm yourself, lamb. You are no more a babe-killer than Belle, and I would know if you were in any possession of magic.”

The spinner jumped when something touched his shoulder, but it was only the woman, Belle, and she was looking at him with such sympathy. It almost hurt him like a physical thing; he had forgotten what other people could be like when they weren’t cruel.

The Dark One hummed, and turned his head, finally looking away from the spinner, his eyes unfocusing and going dull. “But you’re wrong. Your flock is down to two.”

Again a whimper rose from his throat. He knew he should have come sooner, but he had been so afraid.

“What is it you want, Spinner?”

He began to tremble again. “I long for somewhere I can live in peace.”

“That’s easy,” the Dark One giggled. “As for the price, you’re in luck: I happen to be in need of a lamb.”

“Master?”

“Your remaining ewe. She is set to conceive triplets during the next mating season, and I require the first born.”

The spinner nodded readily.

“In the meantime, you will stay here.”

The spinner stopped nodding. “What?”

“It’s safe and warm,” the Dark One cooed, “and you and your sheep won’t last if you return home. No, you will stay here, where you can care for them and where I can guarantee I receive my payment.”

Belle’s hand slid from his shoulder to clasp his hand, and she smiled.

The Dark One and his maid were both so beautiful in their own way, but if life had taught him anything, it was to look where flowers hid their poison. But what choice did he have?

“I will stay.”


End file.
